I need to get something off my chest, dear Filthy Dreams readers, that really steams my buns. And this comes up time and time again as I walk through the West Village. I hate the NYC AIDS Memorial. Not just dislike–hate as in loathe, detest, abhor. Continue reading
“The irony for me was, like, I’m in a production to express yourself. I wasn’t being that at all with myself,” remarks Carlton Wilborn in the documentary film Strike A Pose. Directed by Ester Gould and Reijer Zwaan, Strike A Pose traces the experiences–both past and present–of the six (seven, if you include Gabriel Trupin … Continue reading
“There are few things raunchier than a centerfold of ‘nothing,’” quips critic Bruce Hainley speaking to our preeminent filth elder John Waters in Art: A Sex Book. “The imagination can go wild.” Even with his purposeful witticism, Hainley is right. Sometimes just fractured glimpses of body parts–a hand, a silhouette, a mouth–amidst a sea of … Continue reading
I’ve never contemplated jumping out a window while clutching an over 800 page book before reading Hanya Yanagihara’s distressing, bleaker than bleak novel A Little Life. Published in 2015, Yanagihara describes the writing of her book as “a fever dream.” And well, it’s not that much different to read–a bildungsroman filtered through extreme, seemingly unending … Continue reading
An unintentional side effect of the recent uproar over the inclusion of Dana Schutz’s Open Casket in the Whitney Biennial is it raised important if seemingly self-explanatory questions about how white artists should ethically represent people of color and their experiences. And no, I’m not praising its ill-conceived inclusion as “opening a conversation.” I’m sure … Continue reading
There’s nothing more convincing of the absolute triumph of a bizarre mixture of surrealism and farce like watching President Donald Trump appear next to a giant bespectacled Easter Bunny that looks positively stunned at the circus surrounding him. Like Bun Buns, I too watched yesterday’s first Trump administration Easter Egg Roll with my jaw dropped and a … Continue reading
Christ has died! Christ has risen! Christ will…come again? Why hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! Welcome! Would you like a glass of Sacramental wine? Hey! I know in church they only let you have a sip but Jesus wouldn’t want us to be cheap now would he? I know what you’re thinking, faithful Filthy … Continue reading
As I increasingly feel like I’ve spent too much time in the art world, I’m discovering that my favorite art is con art. Why do I mention this? Well, today, Jeff Koons and Louis Vuitton rolled out one of the biggest and most hilarious scams I’ve seen in awhile–their new collaborative handbag collection Masters. Making … Continue reading
How do you measure a life? Through jars full of trash gathered during trips to Bourbon Street, Rodeo Drive and the King’s mecca, Graceland? Through a smattering of graveyard dirt collected from the graves of loved ones? Through precisely written tags on toothbrushes and assorted tchotchkes, saved for decades? Through a 585-page inventory? Well, according … Continue reading
Yesterday, as many dear Filthy Dreams readers must know, Pepsi released a dumpster fire in the form of a commercial, starring Kendall Jenner, which basically distilled everything about protest, the Black Lives Matter and even, the hope of intersectionality down into a milquetoast, feel-good cola shill. It was stunning in both its hilarity and its … Continue reading